A lot of bankers
by Hamfast Gamgee
Summary: A Yes Minister and in The Thick of It crossover. I thought of these should be done as soon as I first saw In The Thick of Of It. To be loyal to In The thick of It, I am afraid that there is a lot of swearing. So I've rated it M. Thanks to Iggy for betearing, please r&r thanks, Ham
1. Chapter 1

A lot of wankers, sorry bankers

An In the thick of it and Yes minister crossover

In a canteen at Whitehall two men were having lunch. Two men in the middle ranks of British politics. Very middle-ranking actually. Middle-ranking, middle-aged, middle-politics. Just about everything middle really! In fact, one, Brian, was so middle-ranking he never could make up his mind on the great political divide of the day. No, not between the PM and the leader the opposition, the PM and his own Chancellor of the Exchequer. Such was the nature of the politics of that party was that the PM and his no2 had an outright hatred of each other which did not help the smooth running of the country. Brian was non-descript looking, bald wearing a blue suit, though he had taken the jacket off for lunch and had a yellow tie over his shirt. Anyway, what were they discussing one of the great political issues of the nation? Taxation, foreign policy, the state of their party, the challenge posed by the energetic new, young, opposition leader or the little mentioned but growing scandal of MPs expenses? No, indeed. It was the colour of the wall-paper of their office in the forthcoming redecoration of their Whitehall department.

'Blue,'

'No way, far too Tory,'

'Red,'

'Too socialist. We were supposed to have jettisoned all that, remember!'

'Yellow, then Bernard,' Technically speaking Brian's pal, Berrnard was supposed to be a neutral civil servant, but he did owe some of his highish position to friendships with those in the governing political party. Bernard was suited like Brian but he was wearing his dark blazer which matched the colour of his trousers.

'Too bright, friend,'

'Stripey-grey,'

'Maybe that will do, Brian. A little dull perhaps though it is standard Whitehall issue.' As it happened the two could vote on this issue of mighty political importance having received recently an e-mail on the subject. A man hurried into the canteen and sat in front of them. This man was tall, had brown hair and rather thin but was wearing a brown blazer with his suit. His eyes shone like coals of fire when he was angry which was a lot of the time such as now. He was a rather different political animal than the other two. Malcolm Tucker, one of the most influential spin-doctors in British politics with the ear of the PM.

'What are you two cunts doing here? That's a fucking ninety minute lunch break you've had. Oh, Brian that little shit-head who's a member of the government wants you. He has a meeting this afternoon, ' Tuckers light-green tie flowed dramatically as he talked. Such a flowery form of communication came naturally to Tucker and having worked for him for months Brian was used to it by now. Tucker reinforced his words by banging his fist hard upon the table, spilling Brian's coffee.

'By little shit-head I take it you mean the Ministerr?' said Brian.

'That's right. Some toe-rag of an industrialist and a union leader are asking us for money. Well, the Minister is there too say, "no". I mean why do these wankers think that their pathetic problems have anything to do with us? We are a transparent administration.' This was Tucker's point of view, 'And we do not get leaned upon by special interest groups. Just because a few thousand jobs are at stake. Anyway, I would go myself, but I'm busy. I have to see the CEO of Asterys, one of our top supermarket chains. Have to keep sweet with them. Powerful people.' With a flourish Tucker departed.

Deciding it was about time he finished lunch, Brian went back to the Ministry. The recently merged, the governing party had a habit of tinkering with established organisations, Ministry of Administration, Communication and proper economic practice. Or, as some unkind sections of the media pointed out, _improper_ economic practice might be a more appropriate name. Anyway, at the office, Brian met both his Minister, Jim Hacker, and the Permenant Secretary, Sir Humphrey Appleby.

Sir Humphrey was the first to speak. He didn't look happy, but not too annoyed, either. Sir Humphrey was tall, balding and bulky. He was one of the country's top civil servants and was certainly not above using his size to intimidate his staff - or even the Minister - to get his point across. He looked down upon Brian. 'Young man, I fear you have spend too long, in the fullness degree of time, too much of the aforementioned time upon the temporary relaxation of your departmental duties for which we pay you a monetary advancement,' said he a tad waffly as was his wont.

'Eerrrrmmm,' thought Brian trying to figure this one out.

'He means you've taken too long for your break,' the Minister helpfully explained.

'And, if like the working practices of non-governmental industry we had the means of imposing corrections in accordance to the remit of flexible working some form of disciplinary action would have to be taken'. This sounded a bit more serious and looked a little worried. 'But as it doesn't I'll just have to tell you not to do it again,' Sir Humphrey smiled and Brian relaxed. He obviously wasn't part of performance related pay.

Sir Humphrey continued, 'Anyway, I want you for this meeting. Shouldn't be that hard, but might require... work. Come along Minister. The Minister followed Sir Humphrey a little like a dog following its owner. The meeting wasn't that bad, though it's outcome was never in any real doubt. The people requesting Government money werent asking for much in fact, but the answer was still a no. Even the Minister didn't look too happy.

'They do seem a decent bunch. Can't we do anything for them?'

'I'm afraid not Minister. It is government money they are asking for and of course government intervention in the economy. You are supposed to believe in the free market after all. Would you like to go to the PM and say that you want to add to our already stretched budget?' Hacker shuddered at this prospect. The PM had a famous reputation for been 'Prudent,' He had in fact once said, 'prudent,' twenty times in a Budget speech whilst he was Chancellor. So Hacker agreed. 'We will stick to our current proposals to see them in six months time.'

'And in our priority list they are somewhere alongside aid to Guinna-Fusser,' said Hacker inaccurately.

'Yes, Minister!' grinned Sir Humphrey.

The following day, Tucker wasn't so happy. Brian looked up at 9.30 to see Tucker charge into the Whitehall office. But he did succeed in gaining the attention of both the permanent secretary and the minister. 'Ah, Mr Tucker good day,' this was Sir Humphrey naturally. He took a delight in emphasizing the 'Mr,' as though to point out Tuckers lack of any honorific. 'Good day. I trust our workings and humble additions to your policy thinking has had a satisfying if not even a positive influence upon current government thinking this morning?'

'Will you stop talking bollocks and speak fucking English.' Brian thought this was ironical considering the usual anti-English thinking, in private at least, of Tucker. 'I trust you about as much as I trust a madman with a knife and my testicles.' He shoved the palm of his hand into Sir Humphreys face. 'What did I fucking tell you to do to that fucking delegation? Tell them to fuck off, not give them a bit of fucking hope.'

'We did only what we normally do, Mr Tucker. They know they are not been taken seriously.'

'Ah, but fucking do they? You, you, you and you,' said Tucker pointing to everyone, even Brian's pal the under-secretary Bernard though Brian couldn't see what it had to to with him. 'need to know who runs this fucking country,'

'The Ministers of state of a democratically elected government?'

Both Sir Humphrey and Tucker laughed outright at this absurd suggestion. 'Loyal civil servants who are always here,' suggested Sir Humphrey.

'Fuck off. Your problem, Sir Humphrey, is that your Civil Service first division has lost its power over the years. You had influence because you were always here whilst the governments changed at every fucking election. Hasn't been like that recently though has it? We have had thirteen years of the other party followed by ten years of us. Harder to play the "you-will-be-out-at-the-next-election-card," when the governing party keep on fucking winning isn't it? Anyway, I'll tell you who runs this country, loyal special advisors who the PM favours because we've engineered three successful election campaigns for him.'

'That's the previous PM, surely,' said Bernard.

'Piss off,' answered Tucker as Bernard had touched on a sure point for the spin-doctor. Tuckers phone rang. He gave a little listen. 'It never rains but bloody well pours. Seems I have to now attend an emergency meeting with the head of one of our major banks. I wonder what they want? Anyway, remember the golden rule. No, and I mean no, new spending commitments. Can I make that any more absolutely fucking clear? Oh, and whilst you're at it make a good check on your department's transparency. I am hearing too much about MPs expenses. This story has already made the headlines of the rolling news channels. That's bad. I just don't like the sounds of it.' Which showed that to give him credit, Tucker did have a touch of political instinct about him.

Later that day Tucker entered the office again. Mildly as it happened. And the spin-doctor was almost nice and polite. At least for him. 'Ah, Minister, I wonder if I could ask for a small, "cough", favour.' On this occasion the office was fairly neat. At least with the introduction of laptops there wasn't wires hanging down behind every desk. It was only, sadly, in Tucker's eyes, Brian's desk that was a bit messy.

'Minister? Well, that's better than shit-head,' replied Hacker as Tucker's 'high,' opinion of him had reached his ears.

Tucker's smile became almost cat-like. 'I was wondering if perhaps your department could loosen its purse-strings just a little to help out the banking sector and maybe don't tell the PM about this.'

'Maybe. How much?'

Tucker's voice sank to a whisper. '5bn sterling.'

'No way that's nearly 10% of our departmental spending.'

'In that case we could have a problem as this sounds like being crucially important.'


	2. Chapter 2

At the end of the lunch, Hacker still wasn't totally convinced but he thought he would put in a word in support. Tucker seemed reasonably happy about this. But now there was the question of the bill. The actual meal itself was no better than average and would not have had impressed any connoisseur of food. Fortunately, neither of these men were. They wouldn't know a good quality meal if it had come up and bitten them.

But the bill was an issue. The trouble was that government transparency was a hot political topic at the moment. If it was found out that an unelected advisor was buying a meal for a Minster this could be seen as unfair lobbying. On the other hand if the Minister bought the lunch, on an expense account in particular, this might be seen as a mis-use of government money. 'Perhaps we should go halves?' was Hacker's clever suggestion. The spin-doctor was happy to agree. Though the Minister of state was feeling a bit guilty about this. The most expensive item of the meal was a very pricy bottle of wine and he had drunk nearly all of it. Still, no-one expected them to analyse every item spent in an infinite manner of ways, did they?

Later, Hacker heard that Sir Humphrey had been with the PM. In his office, Hacker said, I hope you dealt with the banking sector's request for aid?' thinking this would make for a quiet ministerial life for him.

'Yes, Minister,' Hacker nodded. But unfortunately for him, Sir Humphrey hadn't been keeping up to date with recent developments. 'I got him to agree. No new spending commitments until the election. He strongly agreed. Nice for everyone to be singing from the same hymn sheet!' Sir Humphrey got up to leave.

'Excellent,' said Hacker at first, then realised with horror what Sir Humphrey had actually said. 'No, no, hold on a moment.' But it was too late. Sir Humphrey was out the door. The Minister held his head in his hands and groaned, much to Bernard's amusement. Hacker dreaded to think of what Tucker might say about the civil service going above his head on this bail-out issue. But he would soon find out.

The next morning as it happened. 9.00 am sharp. Brian had just started his early morning coffee when the door burst open with an almighty bang. In marched Tucker in a biblical rage with eyes like balls of fire. 'Fuck you all!' cried he. Everyone was in the office. Even a secretary, Mandy, was cowering at the back. Tucker marched up to Sir Humphrey and eyeballed the top civil servant. 'You, you, you. Do you know on my way here I fucking trod on something? Fucking dog-poo. On my fucking shoe. All over it. And as I looked at it with its smelly disgusting mess attracting flies, it reminded me of something. Do you know what? You, you fucking little pen-pushing little civil service cunt.'

'Now then, whatever is the issue?' asked Sir Humphrey.

'Never you mind the fucking issue,' shouted Tucker getting even angrier if possible. 'You do not, not, not go and influence the fucking PMs mind before I do. We have to go and help the fucking banking sector which is in fucking crisis. And the last thing I fucking need is the PM going on about being fucking prudent right now.'

'But I was only doing what was Government policy, being prudent.'

Tucker's eyes bulged in fury. 'Do you, or any of you civil service pen-pushing pricks, have any sense of political nuance, independent fucking thought or initiative, or are you all just a bunch of fucking cunts? These are bankers. Important people. If the banking sector gets in trouble do you have any idea of how this could affect our marginal fucking voters or the fucking political consequences? You really are a bunch of cunts, cunts! Now, pen-pushing wanker, go and tell the PM we need some credit of oh, 10 billion for a bank bail-out.' Even as a witness to Tucker's wroth, Hacker noticed that this situation was sounding more serious. The money required for the bail-out seemed to have doubled. 'I have had it up to fucking here with you lot. Now then, are you going to fucking help me for a change by persuading the PM to help the banking sector or are you just going to be a fucking cunt as usual?'

Now in another situation, Sir Humphrey might have been willing to consider this. After all, he was a bank customer himself and knew the consequences of a general banking crisis. But the way that Tucker had approached him had frankly riled him and Sir Humphrey was in no mood to appease the fellow. He wasn't part of the spin-doctor'sempire anyway. Who was Tucker to speak to him like that? 'I'm afraid that's quite impossible in this current climate, Mr Tucker,' he replied. Hacker thought he had seen Tucker angry before. He was wrong. This was rage on a different Richter scale. Tucker's forehead bulged. His eyes blared with evil, red, fire.

'WANKERS!' you're nothing but a bunch of wankers. The Civil Service are a bunch of irrelevant paper-shuffling wankers. And Cunts. The one time I fucking need you you fucking let me down. Fuck, fuck, fuck you all. That's it. I am never coming to this office again or speaking to any of you. You,' he pointed at Sir Humphrey, 'are a waste of space. And a fucker. So is what you fucking represent, your career and all of your fucking colleagues. Clear? I want nothing more to fucking to do with you ever. Fuck off.'

'Um, excuse me,' said Bernard mildly,

'Fuck you and all,' Tucker yelled and kneed the under-secretary in the groin. Then he stormed out of the office in fury, pausing only to break poor Brian's computer. 'And why don't you ever tidy your fucking desk?' Tucker yelled at the poor man. Also, on his way out he ripped off the 'Don't forget we're a team, team,' notice from the office wall.

There was a pause. 'Well I hope that fucker,' Sir Humphrey knew how to swear too, 'sticks to tryst and never does come here again.' There was a general murmur of agreement in the office.

Later that day, on the Commons lawn, Hacker met a friend of his, an American journalist, Heather who was an experienced, older, reporter. They had a mutual friendship. Heather did like to know some of the latest happenings of the British Government for her readers and it was sometimes useful for Hacker to hear an Atlantic perspective. Heather chuckled, 'You British and your cute little bail-outs. You should keep your trust in the market like us,'

Hacker coughed. Heather did have an America-knows-best attitude which could be annoying. 'What about Michigan, then?' he countered, pointing out an example of an American bail-out.

'Well, why we pay our taxes,' Heather countered totally unabashed. 'This does appear to be a big one though. £20bn I heard. I wonder if you consider this to be a prudent use of Government money? Especially as one of the banking top chief executives has had a pension of 15 million pounds?' Heather asked sweetly. Heather wasn't of any party political, persuasion, but was a moderate, average American. Which probably was a bit right-wing for her UK friends and colleagues, however. She pulled out her notebook from her smart, green dress.

'Possibly you don't quite understand the full financial implications of not doing so. But the point is moot sadly. The PM won't go for it. Not in his current frame of mind. But this has been seriously discussed. It has also caused a serious dispute between the Government advisers and the civil service who are now not talking to each other.' The Minister had just given his friend a useful exclusive and she gave him a nice smile underneath her grey hair. She did kept a note of this information which later she found of use. She also noticed that Hacker had kept quiet on the subject of the top bankers' pensions, which was wise of him.


	3. Chapter 3

A lot of Bankers, the final part

The last chapter of my crossover between In the thick of it and Yes Minister. How would the characters in those programs cope with the banking crisis? And how would they react to each other? This is something one can only do in fanfic. Hard to do, this on TV many of the original cast been dead. Thanks to Iggy for beatering, please read and review, thanks Ham.

-o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

That afternoon, after some very menial paperwork for a Minister of the crown Hacker saw Sir Humphrey looking downcast. 'I've been looking at the banking sector. They are in a worse situation than we thought. Unlikely as it sounds. They do need an urgent injection of considerable money. Otherwise we could have chaos in the banking sector. Around £70 Billion is needed.'

The sum had gone up again, Hacker noticed. But in a touch of spite he asked Sir Humphrey, 'So why are you so concerned? No votes in it for you. You don't need to worry your head about matters such as elections. You have a job for life, here!'

'Yes, but as a department we happen to have millions saved in the banks accounts. If they go under we will lose much of that. Think of the impact that will have on us. Also... Well, I feel sorry for poor Jeepers.'

'Who?' asked Hacker.

'Poor old Jerry, Jepers. You might know him as Jeremy Samson, CEO of Brit Bank. When I was at Oxford he was the hero of our year, we all loved him, he was the star of the house rugby team and in the dormitories we all swore we would stay together forever. Breaks my heart to see him in such trouble. I saw him the other day, all this bad news about his bank is making the poor fellow very upset. We Oxford pals should stick together.' Sir Humphrey's eyes went all misty. Jeremy Samson, as Hacker was aware, had just been awarded a pension of 10 million; he wasn't in such a bad way!

'Whatever, Tucker happens to be on the same side as you.'

That was one way that Hacker could annoy Sir Humphrey. 'Be that as it may, we do not talk about that... man here. No way, not after the way he insulted me and this department. I think I'd rather have financial chaos to be honest. Even have poor old Jepers going under.' Which was quite a potential concession to make.

'A pity that you people have spent so much recent effort in persuading the PM to be prudent. And some might see his point. After all, Is bailing out organisations that pay their CEO's such large sums really worthy of Government support?' suggested Bernard rather cheekily.

'Yes, thank you, Bernard, I'm so pleased to have you here to point out these things to me.' Hacker replied sarcastically. 'However, I saw the email of the request as well. It was signed by the banker leaders. Well, it was more of a threat than a request. They pointed out the results of bankers going under and the negative impact this would have on our key electoral support. No, we have to convince the PM somehow.'

A few streets away, Brian was watching Tucker on his mobile. Tucker on a mobile phone was an education. He was one that had perfected mobile phone rage to an art form. However this time it happened to be only the PM he was talking to so he had to be slightly politely than usual. But Tucker was almost begging. 'Now, now Prime Minister, please. These are the banks millions of our fucking voters, er, people depend upon them. We need to be able to provide the money. Yes, I know it's a lot. But we can do it, it's necessary. No, no, no fucking no. Do not make a statement. Not yet. Please. Let's just have a meeting to consider first. Look you fucking wanker, why don't you pay attention to what I am telling you? Oh, er, sorry sir.' Tucker remembered this was the Prime Minister he was speaking to. 'I, er, wasn't talking to you, then, and don't forget to edit, you English prick!' he shouted over to Brian who looked up in amaze. Tucker put down the mobile.

'Fucking Edinbourgh cunt!' he sighed. 'He's talking about going to the press and issuing a financial statement. I must get to him before he does this. I'm sure I can eventually persuade him of my point of view, but this could be too little, too late and embarrassing. I have one chance, a meeting with him this coming Tuesday morning. I could be busy all weekend with this one.'

'If you need allies, the Civil Service is technically on your side. Sir Humphrey does agree with you.'

'Maybe. But I can't go around asking him for advice can I? Not after telling the lot of them to go fuck themselves. But the annoying thing is that now I might need them. Together we might well influence the PMs thinking. Oh, fuck,' Tucker groaned, 'a joint approach might work. But I can't bring myself to communicate with them again. I might have to say sorry!'

'An apology?'

'Well, an expression of regret. Let's not get silly here, Brian!'

'We will leave apologising to the Liberals!' suggested Brian.

If it was any consolation to Tucker, and it was, Hacker was having a rough time as well. He was having a meeting with a representative of a think-tank. One with Opposition, or at least independent thinking, but for some reason, the PM liked to have his Ministers listen to 'different,' viewpoints at times. Hackers opinion of the organisation wasn't helped by seeing his opposite number emerge from the same building.

'Good morning,' said the opposition spokesman looking happy. Well, he had every reason to be. There was unpleasant economic news in the country, more people were feeling unhappy, insecurity was now common and the Government was struggling with difficult and unpopular economic choices. Which, if one is a member of the opposition, is good news! The fact that they might well be wrestling with the same problems if they got in power was merely coincidental.

'You ought to pay attention to this man, Hacker,' his opposite number advised, he has sensible advice for you,' Hacker scowled and thought that didn't bode well.

It didn't. In a plush but small office, Hacker met one of the people mostly famed for thinking out opposition policies. The advice was basically, 'What you need to do, is to make deep cuts in public spending.' Which Hacker had heard before from the opposition, although it was a relatively new policy position for them.

'Fine, do you have any other advice,'

'Cut Government spending,' repeated the spokesman.

'Ok, but in what areas, by how much? Can you identify potential cutbacks? What would be the effect this might have on our growth targets, some areas we are under manifesto obligation to protect? What about the strong pubic opposition we are likely to face in undertaking such a policy? What do you consider the correct public debt ratio to even be?'

'Just cut Government spending.'

Hacker thought, 'You're nothing if not consistent,' but also thought that whilst it was easy to make such popularist comments in opposition or in lobbying, but in office it was sometimes harder to implement. Especially when issues such as the banking crisis blew your spending plans wide open.

At the same time, Tucker was wrestling with his dilemma. He was been watched by Brian, pacing up and down his office. 'Yes, you are correct,' he admitted to Brian. 'I will need every source I possess to convince the PM in his current mood. And Sir Humphrey is a fucking important one. But I can't bring myself to apologise to the man. I don't know what I said that was so fucking insulting anyway. Maybe we need a go between. Do we know anyone with a foot in both camps that can act as a bridge between us? '

In the meantime Sir Humphrey was considering the same issue. 'Bernard yes, I agree we might need Tucker. But I stand by my principles. I won't talk to him. But we could communicate indirectly. Do we know anyone that we could use for such a task?'

Brian said to Tucker, 'Jim Hacker,'

'Jim Hacker!' Bernard said to Sir Humphrey at precisely the same moment.

And so it was that a short while later Hacker was some kind of go-between of two important sectors of Government with Sir Humphrey and his little team one side of his office, and Tucker and his team on the other, Tucker and Sir Humphrey not speaking directly or, barely been able to look at, each other.

Truth to tell, Hacker wasn't that willing to act as communicator between the two just because they were acting like a couple of sulky schoolboys, but he had little choice. 'Look, you fucking wanker act as my go-between cunt or the middle-classes could face financial disaster,' ordered Malcolm Tucker.

'Now, Minister, it is imperative that you talk to that man for me!' Sir Humphrey counselled.

Anyway, there Hacker was, stuck in between the two. 'Worse than that time at the Middle-East peace conference,' he joked to Brian. But after a few tense hours, agreement was reached, unlike the Middle-East. Tucker even made a move of reconciliation. 'Well done, Permanent Secretary,' he said, though Tucker being Tucker he did think, 'fucking prick.'

'Mr Tucker,' Sir Humphrey nodded in reply.

'Cheer up, Jim, you did get your way!' said Heather later. They were both, over a coffee, watching the Prime Minister on TV explaining the necessity of a banking bail-out to a sceptical UK public. But Jim Hacker was looking unhappy.

'Yes, but at a price. We will have to make cutbacks to accommodate this. And heading into an election year as well. Not to mention the international reaction. We'll be the Government that could be the laughing stock of the world. Not great for my reputation,' Hacker sighed sipping his coffee sadly.

'Actually, you needn't worry about that,' Heather pointed out. 'Some other countries are having the same problems as you, you are not alone, look at the papers.' Hacker did look and did indeed see that she was correct, which was good from his point of view as it meant that he and his team were not wholly to blame.

Yes, the other major banks in the world were also crying out for bail-outs. At the same time. What a coincidence. Deutch Direct, Credit un France, Lira Italia, Lecnduze Holland, Collapso Greece, even the American Patriotic bank, called the Patriotic Bank, Hacker supposed because one had to be a Patriot to put up with its high charges for banking with them, all were pleading with their Governments for money. It was with some amusement that he saw Heather making notes and checking information about her own countries reaction to the situation, not too dissimilar to Hacker's which dampened her smug attitude a bit.

He did have one little bit of juicy political news for her in return. 'There's going to be a slight ministerial reshuffle for the run up to the election. David Anderson is back in.'

Despite being pre-occupied, Heather face looked up in surprise. 'Him! Really? It's your funeral I suppose, but is your PM totally suicidal? Honestly, why in a time when political transparency and honesty in politics are such strong issues does he bring back a man that was sacked for various political scandals on no less than four separate occasions and coincidentally is probably the least popular politician in the country?' Hacker did think this was odd now Heather came to mention it.

Back in the office, Hacker met Sir Humphrey who was of on a departmental gathering for the evening. Sir Humphrey smiled, but Hacker looked gloomy again. 'I know we have done what we have had to do, but I can't help but wonder why? When it comes to the banks we manage to find nearly 100 billion pounds out of nowhere. But suggest a fraction of this sum for industry and the Government freaks out. I think all we have done is expose ourselves to the public as bigger hypocrites than we already were. No wonder they hate us.'

Siir Humphrey smiled and said in reply, 'Yes Minister.'

**THE END**


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